


Clint Barton And The Adventures In Terror Twin Rearing

by stevergrsno (noxlunate)



Series: Happy Steve Bingo Fills [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Clint Barton POV, Comics Clint, Gen, Happy Steve Bingo, M/M, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlunate/pseuds/stevergrsno
Summary: “Maybe it’s aliens.” Steve hisses at Barnes.“Aliens don’t look likepeopleSteve.” Barnes says with all the surety of an eleven year old. And ho boy, does Clint kind of want to introduce this version of these two to Thor.In which Steve and Bucky are somehow turned into their ten and eleven year old selves and Clint Barton is somehow nominated to take care of them. It goes about as well as can be expected.





	Clint Barton And The Adventures In Terror Twin Rearing

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for my "de-aging" square on my Happy Steve Bingo card! It's also definitely just an excuse to let Steve and Bucky go trick or treating.

Clint Barton has dealt with a lot of shit. Mind control, aliens, Natasha Romanoff, the _circus_ , Kate Bishop, his _brother._ His life has overall been a giant shitshow that lends itself to unpredictable and ridiculous things.

He’s not sure he’s ever dealt with anything as unpredictable and ridiculous as the sight of Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, aged eleven and ten respectively.

 

“What _happened?”_ Natasha’s voice snaps out along comms as soon as it happens, and Clint reminds himself that she’s only so sharp when she’s worried and it won’t help anything to snap back.

“I don't know!” He snaps back, entirely forgetting the plan _not to snap back_ as he notches arrow after arrow to shoot at the goons converging on Rogers and Barnes. “Bright light. Big boom. Tiny super soldiers. I need you here like five minutes ago though considering Rogers and Barnes are compromised.” He shoots another goon and sees as tiny shitheaded _goddamn Captain America_ picks up the shield that probably weighs as much as he is, _goddamn,_ and tries to beat someone with it.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE, JESUS CHRIST!” Clint yells from his perch, picturing tiny Steve squished under that goddamn shield, oh my god.

Thank god for Barnes, because he drags Steve out of the fray and straight into the arms of Natasha, _thank god._

 

Later, when the villains of the week are safely disposed of and they’ve done as much with the clean up as they can, they regroup with the new, ridiculous knowledge that two of their own are _goddamn children._

They’ve picked some random diner and thank god for the fact that New Yorkers are pretty much predisposed to just not giving a shit about anything weird, because the sight of Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Ant-Man, Falcon, Hawkeye, and two kids gathered around a table does little to phase absolutely anyone _._

“So what the hell do we do now?” Clint asks, frowning at Barnes and Steve still sitting in their suits, the things practically hanging off of them. And jesus, how is Steve _so small?_ Clint’s cracked open a history book at least once in his life, so he’s seen the pictures of Steve Rogers before the government got ahold of his scrawny ass, but somehow that doesn’t quite compare to the sight of him in all his ten year old glory.

They’re whispering, bent into each other as Steve whispers something furiously, gesturing with his hands and Barnes frowns with a seriousness that feels vaguely reminiscent of the adult Barnes.

Finally, Steve is apparently nominated to speak for the both of them because he sits up a little straighter and glares the group of superheroes down.

“We would like to know where we are.” Steve says seriously, skinny arms crossed over his chest. Barnes kicks at his ankle and Steve adds a _“Please,”_ like it’s been torn out of him.

“Manhattan.” Wanda says, gentle as can be and Clint can see _it._ That look some people get on their faces when presented with something particularly cute. Huh. If he turns his head and squints just enough he could see how all that justice crammed into such a tiny body could end up as cute. And then Wanda goes and drops the bomb of “And it’s September 28th 2018”

Natasha sighs like she had some intention of creating Brooklyn nineteen-whenever to keep them occupied until they figure out how to fix it.

Steve whirls on Barnes- and god it feels weird to call a kid _Barnes-_ and shoves at his shoulder, “It’s like one of your books!”

Barnes dramatically makes a show of swaying to the side with Steve’s push, then shoves back at Steve. Then he turns towards the rest of them, frowning, “We want proof.”

“The people with high tech guns and all the cars outside weren’t proof enough for you?” Clint asks, frowning right back at tiny Barnes-Bucky? That’s what Steve calls him right?

“Coulda been a movie set. Or maybe a secret science experiment.” Bucky- no he’s definitely calling him Barnes- says like this is a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“Maybe it’s aliens.” Steve hisses at Barnes.

“Aliens don’t look like _people_ Steve.” Barnes says with all the surety of an eleven year old. And ho boy, does Clint kind of want to introduce this version of these two to Thor.

“Here.” Scott says and hands Barnes his cell phone, because apparently he’s the only one with any sense among them. Or, to be fair to the rest of them, maybe he’s just the only one who understands children because of the whole having one thing. “You just kinda tap at it.”

Barnes frowns at the phone and taps at it skeptically, his eyes popping wide when something apparently happens.

It seems like less than ten minutes later the two have figured out exactly how the phone works and are easily entertained by it. Or at least Barnes seems easily entertained by it. Steve seems just as entertained by Barnes being entertained.

Nice to see certain things remain exactly the same no matter the size.

“So what’re we gonna do with them until we figure out how to fix this?” Wilson asks once they seem suitably distracted

“I’ve barely got room for me and Cassie.” Scott says, looking a little guilty to be denying the two.

“I don’t do kids.” Natasha says, not looking guilty _at all._

“I’ve got work,” Sam says, and then, “And Wanda still _is_ a kid.”

“I am _not.”_ Wanda insists, but doesn’t volunteer to take them.

All eyes turn on Clint.

_Goddamnit._

He turns to tiny Steve and Barnes, “How do you two feel about dogs?”

 

It turns out that despite Barnes almost ominous statement of “Stevie likes cats better,” the two of them fucking _love_ dogs.

Or maybe it’s just that Lucky is the _best dog._ Which is a distinct possibility that Clint’s gonna roll with. Lucky _is_ the best dog and who couldn’t love him?

Steve has ended up steered to the couch by a mother henning Barnes - which again, nice to see some things don’t change no matter the age- and has Lucky with his head in his lap. Barnes himself is perched next to Steve and they both seem suitably fascinated with the dog that Clint can figure out what the hell a couple of kids from the 20s (30s???) would want to eat.

Clint opts for pizza. Because what kid _doesn’t_ like pizza? Also Clint himself likes pizza so really, he might just be being selfish and ordering what he wants without regards to what a couple of fresh faced kids from the stone age want.

 

Barnes, predictably, makes Steve a plate filled with pizza and then proceeds to sneak his crusts onto Steve’s plate. It’s all at once heartwarming and sort of sad and Clint very much tries not to think about it.

 

The second night the terror twins stay with Clint, he wakes up to the round, pale face of Barnes hovering above him as he’s shaken awake by an insistent hand on his arm.

Barnes is saying something, but it’s too dark to make out his mouth properly. Clint snags his hearing aids from where he’d dumped them on his side table and fiddles with them until he can hear the poor kid. It doesn’t help all that much to be honest, because Barnes’ words are coming out too quick, a stream of ‘Stevie’s and ‘Needs help’s and ‘Don’t know what to do’s.

“Hey, kid, slow down, come on take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.” Clint says, aiming for soothing but pretty sure he’s failing. Clint’s not great at a whole lot of things, and kids are certainly not one of those few things.

“Steve he’s- His breathing isn’t quite right, sir, and he’s havin’ one of his attacks and I don’t know where medicine is and his ma’s not here and he needs _help_.” Barnes gets out all in one quick, but identifiable rush.

Clint’s heard about Steve Rogers and his various ailments as a kid, but the point has never been so solidly driven home as when he finds Steve Rogers, 10 years old and halfway to turning blue.

Clint’s also pretty sure he’s never gotten someone to a hospital quite so fast.

 

An hour later Steve’s got a referral to a primary care physician that Clint is betting they’ll never use, and also a brand spanking new inhaler that Clint’s betting they will.

Barnes has already taken it upon himself to figure out exactly how to help Steve use the thing and now seems content to spend the last half of the subway ride home speaking quietly to a dozing Steve.

Clint has to side with Wanda on this one, it’s kind of cute.

 

Wanda shows up nearly two weeks in with news.

Or rather, no news.

“We still have no idea what it was that turned them into children, so I’ve still got no idea how to fix them. Shuri’s trying to figure out if she can science it away though.” Wanda says, once she’s managed to pull herself out of the spot between Steve and Barnes and settle herself in Clint’s kitchen.

Clint glances at the two boys, making sure they’re not paying attention. Which, of course they aren’t. They aren’t the adult Steve and Barnes, they’re _kids._

They’re both looking at the tablets in their laps, because the both of them have better shit than Clint himself does. One that the goddamn princess of Wakanda sent and the other that Stark sent because he’s apparently threatened by the goddamn princess of Wakanda. Steve, Clint has learned, is incredibly taken with how-to art videos on youtube and also everything animated on netflix. Barnes seems to be a little more varied in what he does on the thing, seeming to like everything from the same cartoons Steve does to playing games on it. However, after Clint once found him awake at 3 am watching conspiracy theory videos that led to some vaguely uncomfortable questions about cloning and the US government he had to figure out how to implement parental controls.

“So we have no idea how long they’re going to stay like this.” Clint says, a statement more than a question.

“No.” Wanda agrees quietly, like it’s a personal failing that she can’t figure out how to fix them. Goddamn these _kids_ and their self esteem issues.

Clint feels a sudden urge to wrap her in a blanket and tell her how good she’s doing.

Instead, he offers her a piece of cold pizza and a pat on the shoulder, “Look, you’re doing great kid. Just keep me updated and I’ll keep an eye on the terror twins. Kate’s been liking the babysitting gig anyway.”

“And if we can’t-”

“Hey, don’t even think like that. If you can’t, or if it looks like we’re not gonna figure anything out after a few months we’ll figure something out for them.”

Clint doesn’t think about how maybe it’d be good for Barnes and Steve to stay like this, because he has absolutely no desire to raise his friends from childhood. Of course he doesn’t. Barnes is a goddamn grump, and Steve’s not all that cheery himself, but they’re still his friends and he’s already kind of starting to miss them.

The fact remains though, that the two of them have seen some serious shit and maybe this is the universe’s way of giving them the fresh start they probably deserve.

 

Kate is about twelve years old and a constant annoyance. (This is a lie. Clint is well aware of the fact that Kate is actually 17. She tells him this enough, thanks.) She’s also pretty much the coolest person Clint knows, which when you know a guy who literally turns into a giant green rage monster is saying something.

“I’m here to impart rational human behavior on baby Cap and baby Sarge.” Kate says when she climbs in through Clint’s window.

“Don’t you have parents?” Clint asks, and predictably receives no answer.

“What are they wearing for Halloween?” Kate barrels on, rooting through Clint’s fridge.

“Their clothes, presumably. I don’t know, I don’t plan their outfits for them. Somehow they just dress like that.” Clint says, waving a hand at the kids. Clint had braved Target with the displaced terror twins the first day and bought a whole fuckload of clothes for them. Now they just sort of run free and wear whatever the hell they want. Barnes is freakishly stylish in a way that quite frankly, Clint wouldn’t have ever expected out of a dude that as an adult wears a ridiculous amount of sweatpants. He especially wouldn’t expect it out of the dude who has earnestly complimented Natasha on her most ridiculous leopard print faux fur coat.

“I meant costumes, weirdo.” Kate says, swiveling around to look at Steve and Barnes.

Clint follows her gaze to where the two are sitting squished together on Clint’s couch. Steve’s drawing something on his tablet with Barnes watching over his shoulder.

At least _Steve_ doesn’t dress better at 10 years old than Clint does. He even has a smudge of ink on his nose that Clint can’t pinpoint when it got there. It could have, in all honesty, been there for days.

Kate narrows her eyes at him, squinting and doing a weird thing with her cheeks that puffs them out. “Are you jealous that a child dresses better than you?”

“Are you secretly telepathic?” Clint asks, genuinely meaning it.  “Because you might need to steal someone else’s codename if you’re a telepath. I don’t do anything that cool.”

“You’re just really predictable.” Kate says before leaning back into Clint’s fridge and reappearing with a pile of food that she juggles into one arm so she can shove aside a stack of paper plates to make space to dump the food onto Clint’s counter. “We’re eating and then I’m taking them to buy them Halloween costumes. If they’re still stuck like this America and I want to take them trick or treating.”

Clint fixes Kate with his most suspicious, judgemental stare. He somehow adopted a dog he didn’t want, has had his life turned upside down by two of his friends turning into tiny children, and has a 17 year old protege who steals most his food, so he’s pretty sure it’s not the most effective stare. Still, he musters up a pretty good “Why?” to go with it.

“Because we’re too old to go ourselves and want free candy.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

 

Tiny Barnes looks a whole lot like a teeny tiny Danny Zuko and Clint hums a few bars of Greased Lightning.

Steve is… He frowns a little, taking in the giant brown curly wig, fake beard, blue button up, and paint palette in his hand.

“Did you dress him up as Bob Ross?”

“They let us pick.” Kate says, sounding like this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to her. She has her phone out and is making Barnes and Steve pose for what is probably the 600th picture they’ve had to suffer through.

“Are you especially weird for a teenager, or is this just the new normal?”

“She’s especially weird.” America says from her spot taking up Clint’s _entire couch._ He wonders, truly and deeply, how he manages to own an entire building and still not have a place that isn’t constantly being taken over by other people.

 

“So, those two are super in love when they’re adults aren’t they?” America asks, hanging back with Clint on the curb while Kate steers Steve and Barnes right up to the next door to get their free candy. Steve’s gotten approximately seventeen compliments and is still visibly preening while also drooping into Barnes already from the exertion.

Barnes doesn’t seem to mind, he has his leather clad Danny Zuko arm wrapped around Steve and Clint’s just waiting for the moment he attempts to carry him.

Clint’s received enough compliments on his ‘diverse and modern family’ that he and America have tapped out of the actual trick-or-treating and are now just treating it as a spectator sport.

“Oh yeah. Disgustingly so.” Clint agrees and very nicely doesn’t comment on the way America looks at Kate when she mentions love.

 

Kate has somehow convinced Steve to climb onto her back and Clint’s not going to lie to himself, the sight is kind of cute.

“C’mon, you want a ride too?” America asks Barnes to Clint’s eternal surprise.

“I’m too big.” Barnes insists, though he’s looking a little jealousy at where Steve is clinging to Kate’s back and then looking away like he’s incredibly guilty of feeling jealous about it.

“I’ll tell you a secret, kid,” America says, crouching down to speak directly to Barnes, “I’ve got super strength.”

That seems to be enough, because it’s barely moments later that they’re tromping down the street, the little troupe of them with Barnes and Steve getting piggy-back rides from two teenage wannabe superheroes.  

Clint hangs back a little, watching them up ahead. He channels Kate just a little bit, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture before pocketing it again.

Whatever happens to Barnes and Rogers, he thinks maybe this would be the kind of memory they’d like to have either way.

 

On November 16th Wanda bursts into Clint’s apartment and Clint ends up in a heap on his living floor when he attempts to bolt up off the couch in surprise.

“I figured it out!”

“Owww,” Clint says, stretching out on his floor and blinking up at Wanda, “What’d you figure out?”

“How to get Steve and Bucky back.”

It’s less than four hours later that Clint has a pair of now properly sized super soldiers on his couch.

He throws a blanket over the two because apparently no one thought to bring super soldier sized clothes to this little shindig. In his defense, it’s him and Wanda handling this. Wanda’s a child and Clint’s _Clint._

Neither of them should be expected to be fully prepared for anything.

Barnes blinks a couple times, his jaw working slowly, “Barton…”

“Yeah?” Clint is not worried that Barnes is about to murder him for some accidental mishap made during Clint’s adventure in child rearing. He’s _not._

“Please, for the love of god, tell me you have pictures of Rogers here as Bob Ross.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come chill with me on [tumblr.](http://stevergrsno.tumblr.com/tagged/my-writing)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Clint Barton And The Adventures In Terror Twin Rearing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16469141) by [quietnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietnight/pseuds/quietnight)
  * [[podfic] Cassie Lang And The Adventures In Befriending Hundred Year Old Super Soldiers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936946) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins), [stevergrsno (noxlunate)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlunate/pseuds/stevergrsno)




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